


Scared of Almost Nothing

by ellipsometry



Series: ✧SASO 2017✧ [8]
Category: Free!
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Overstimulation, Rope Bondage, some feelings with some porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 04:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11305239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsometry/pseuds/ellipsometry
Summary: Haruka leaves Makoto overwhelmed as always; face burning, head spinning.prompt: "My hands and heart were tied / But I was scared of almost nothing at all"





	Scared of Almost Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> written for [SASO 2017 bonus round 2!](https://saso-afterhours.dreamwidth.org/33637.html)

Makoto doesn’t mean to apologize, but he keeps doing it. Sorry, sorry, sorry, like an incantation whispered into the hollow of Haruka’s neck. In truth, Haru should be the one pleading here – he’s the one with his hands tied behind his back, the deep red rope a sharp contrast with pale white skin. His back is arched uncomfortably, leg splayed obscenely, toes curling and uncurling.

But, as usual, it’s Makoto who’s overwhelmed, skin burning, head spinning.

Makoto flexes his right hand, gripping Haru’s left leg, the soft, pale flesh spilling out between his fingers. Haruka has already come twice tonight, and Makoto uses his free hand to stroke at Haru’s spent cock, lying wet and dripping against his hip. Makoto can’t help but relish the way Haru squirms beneath him, completely at his mercy. It’s almost too much for Makoto to handle -- scratch that, it’s definitely too much for him to handle.

“You can give me one more, can’t you, Haru-chan?” Makoto murmurs, mouth wet against Haru’s collarbone. When Haru doesn’t respond, too far gone to do anything other than whimper, mouth open and eyes glazed over, Makoto slides a hand up his torso, pinching at the sensitive flesh of Haru’s nipple, still red and swollen from earlier ministrations.

“Ma--” Haruka makes a choked-off noise, fresh tears beading in the corner of his eyes. He’s pink all over, legs shaking as Makoto pulls another orgasm out of him. It feels like lightning striking -- Haru goes completely rigid, mouth dropped open, back bowed. His orgasm is nearly dry, and Haruka is sobbing with both relief and disappointment when Makoto finally pulls his hand away.

Makoto’s breath is ragged, like he’s just run a marathon. It’s with a kind of reverence that he smooths his hands down Haru’s thighs, feeling the downy hair there, the firm muscle underneath.

“You’re so beautiful, Haru. You did so well,” he says shakily, a note of finality in his voice.

But barely a second later Haru is arching his back again, nudging his pelvis against Makoto’s hand, a clear indication that he still wants more. And as much as Makoto might want it too, his body still won’t respond.

“I-I’m… you--” Makoto flinches backward, stumbling on his words, cock so hard it’s making his brain short-circuit. In the back of his mind, he knows that all he has to say is red and everything will come to an end; but Makoto feels paralyzed, too enamoured with the pure, deep-seated desperation in his veins. He likes it. He likes it too much.

In the end, Makoto doesn’t have to say anything. Haru’s hands are on him in a second -- the knot, Makoto remembers. He had tied a slipknot into the rope when binding Haru’s hands, so that he could simply pull the loose end of the rope free his wrists himself if necessary. Makoto reminds himself to thank Past Makoto for his foresight. Haru discards the robe with little difficulty, surging forward and capturing Makoto’s lips for an open-mouthed kiss.

The moment Haru’s hands make contact with his cock, Makoto’s hip buck upward, desperate for something, anything. Haru leans over Makoto, until they’re chest-to-chest, and whispers soft, soothing noises into the curve of his neck. It’s all so dissonant, Makoto thinks, seeing Haru return once again to his collected, in-control self, when just an hour or so ago he had been sobbing for release as Makoto edged him again and again--

“Haru, Haru please,” now Makoto is the one begging, fingers gripping Haruka’s arms, knuckles white. Haruka doesn’t tease, just smears the pre-cum beading at the tip of Makoto’s cock with his thumb, and then strokes him slowly. His grip is tight, almost tight enough to hurt, but it’s just what Makoto needs.

The moment Haru leans down to press one closed-mouth peck against the head of Makoto’s cock, he’s done for. Makoto comes with a gasp, release streaking across Haruka’s lips, dripping off his chin.

Haru looks pleased, and when he actually licks his lips Makoto’s cock twitches in interest. But, no, he’s far too gone. They’ve been at it all day. Makoto makes a grabby motion with his hands, and Haru obliges him, crawling up Makoto’s body and into his arms.

Later, they’ll clean up, re-hydrate, take a warm bath, decompress. For now, though, Makoto feels content to press his forehead against Harkua’s, that small point of contact the only thing keeping his body tethered down.

“... I’m no good at this.”

Haruka snorts, “Makoto, I came three times tonight,” he says, very matter-of-factly.

“That’s not--” Makoto stutters, “You know what I mean!”

“And you know what I mean,” Haru says, pressing a small kiss to the bridge of Makoto’s nose, “Let’s shower. We’re both gross.”

Makoto follows, and doesn’t argue.


End file.
